


The Only Face He Can't Forget

by Emono



Series: Safe and Sound [8]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Darkness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are rolling blackouts in Night Vale. Carlos awakes and forgets all that he is, all that he has been, all that he will be. The only thing he can remember with certainty is a certain radio host. Can Cecil find him and remind of himself before his love's gone forever?</p><p>Spoilers for Episode 6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Face He Can't Forget

_I want to take this moment to thank all of you out there, for all of the generous donations that you may or may not be aware that you just made. During this show, we have raised just a hair over $45,000, which includes a $45,000 donation from a certain anonymous world leader. I can’t tell you who—let’s just say, muchos gracias, El Presidente! –speaks Spanish- Thank you again for your involuntary support of community radio. We couldn’t do it without the support of listeners like you, in conjunction with unethical contributions from nefarious organizations. And with that, I leave you alone with your thoughts, folks. Stay tuned next for Zydeco Note By Note, a special two-hour verbal description of what zydeco music sounds like. Buenos noches, Night Vale. Goodnight._

 

*******

 

Cecil slid his headphones down around his neck, a sigh escaping his lips as his fingers flicked off the mic. The show had gone well in his opinion. Everything had gone smoothly from the script reading to the timing, he hadn't fumbled once. He was overjoyed to have his accent back. Being around Carlos had really helped him recover some of his memory and the words had flowed like water.

 

Cecil caught his reflection a computer monitor. His hair had a blonder sheen to it now. It was still pretty coppery, but it was much better than it had been the past few weeks. He ran his fingers through it, smoothing out some stray hairs until it looked presentable again.

 

Satisfied, he laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. The chair whined in protest. He looked up to the plain ceiling with a goofy smile growing across face. He wondered idly if Carlos had tuned in for tonight's broadcast, if he had liked it, if he had enjoyed the Spanish. The blonde's eyes fell shut save for one, his Ajna cracking open and casting a soft lavender glow into the room. He hummed and let his thoughts wander, absently reaching out through the city for an all too familiar mind.

 

Panic spidered across his mind, pinpricks of pain forcing him to recoil so hard he slammed forward in his chair. Carlos was at home and terrified, of what he wasn't sure. When he tried to look closer all he got was the impression of darkness, a candle with a flickering flame, trembling hands.

 

The blackouts!

 

Cecil scrambled for his coat and keys, barely snagging his scarf and throwing it around his neck before he was out the door.

 

*******

 

_We’ve had some power outages reported throughout Night Vale in the last couple of hours. If you’re experiencing one, well then you can’t hear me, can you? The Night Vale municipal utility department said that they are still working to determine the cause of the outages, which are roving back and forth across town in a continuous motion, like a great pacing beast. Those whose neighborhoods have been hit by the outages reported the shriek of hawks overhead, and that when the lights came back on, they felt that perhaps they were different people, their memories and identities were the same as always, but suddenly felt like costumes that didn’t fit exactly, as though it all were actually brand new to them. As though they had been switched out with someone who was exactly like them. As though all that was familiar would ever after be strange. Keep some flashlights with spare batteries and a childhood photo album by you tonight, just in case._

 

*******

 

Carlos burned his fingers twice trying to light his spare candle, fingers trembling too hard to hold it still for very long. He took up the pillar and started towards the doorway, hoping to get down the dozens of steps to the basement without falling. It was pitch black outside his sphere of light, the flame flicking almost violently under the force of his erratic breath. He'd woken up to the sound of his house's electricity shutting down around him, the usual buzz of of his home fading out and jerking him out of his pleasant dreams.

 

He groped blindly for the door frame, pushing out into small hall that was more of an overlook to the living-room-turned-lab. He grabbed the railing and carefully made his way down, bare feet tracing the length of each step before committing to standing upon it. He'd never realized how far it was from his bedroom to the basement until now.

 

Something was itching along the edges of his mind, scratching to get in. He hit the second tier of steps and had to pause, nails digging into the hard wax of the candle.

 

What was he doing?

 

Carlos looked down at his hand and frowned.

 

Was that his hand?

 

He shook it off and eased down the second set of steps, trying desperately to ignore the sudden unfamiliarity of his own home. Every time the light fell over a table or a set of beakers, he cringed because _he'd never seen those before_. Was this still his place? Had he fallen asleep in someone else's house? No, this had to be his house. But were these his things?

 

By the time Carlos reached the ground floor, he'd forgotten his mother's laugh and the smell of his grandfather's pipe. Tears started leaking from the corner of his eyes as he scrambled to remember something about his cousins – anything at all. Their faces escaped his mind.

 

He didn't make it to the basement door.

 

Carlos tripped over a stool and fell, the pillar rolling away from him and across the floor. He cried out as he jarred his knees on the tile, a pang going up his arms as he tried to catch himself. A hopelessness trickled into his gut, spreading up his chest until a sob erupted from him. He knew he had to get up and check the breakers but suddenly he couldn't recall where they were or what they looked like. The word sounded so strange in his head that he spoke it aloud, his lips wrapped around the syllables several times before he gave up. He crawled until he found a desk and put his back to it, curling his sore legs up into his chest. Hands that may or may not have been his own clasped over them, his chin settling on the tops of them.

 

Where was he?

 

*******

 

Cecil barely had to coerce the lock to open beneath his hands. He made a mental note to remind Carlos to tighten up his security. For the moment, he was grateful it was so easy. The house was dark and quiet save for some moonlight trickling in and a faint whining. Letting his true sight through but keeping his third eye firmly shut, Cecil made his way through the makeshift lab with ease. He followed the sound of the other man until he reached one of the back tables, the one closest to the basement. He found a still-lit pillar candle on its side, steadily melting and sealing itself to the tile. He pried it up and set it on its base, casting more light across the floor.

 

“Oh no.”

 

Carlos was curled up in on himself against the table, eyes clenched shut to block out the room. His arms were crossed over his knees and his nails scratched in a steady rhythm against his forearms, five perfect grooves carved into the flesh. Blood trickled down onto the floor, the edges of every drop on the floor brown and drying up. He'd been there a while... _Carlos_ had been there for a while.

 

“Darling,” Cecil dropped to his knees and crawled closer, laying a tentative hand along the scientist's calf. The man flinched and gave a choked off whimper in response. He'd come too late, the man was slipping fast into the pull of the blackout. He eased up beside the younger man and pried his hands off his arms, what sounded like a protest spilling from those tempting lips.

 

“You have to stop, darling,” Cecil cooed, rubbing his thumbs along the dark knuckles in hopes of massaging the urges out of them, “I'm sorry...I know, you're scared. But you're hurting yourself.”

 

“C-Cecil?”

 

The blonde's face split into a smile, “You remember me?”

 

Carlos openly sobbed, crimson bubbling up fresh as he moved to grab the other's jacket, “I remember...you. But this place...wh-where am I?”

 

“Carlos,” he breathed, dread weighing heavy on his heart.

 

The man looked up at the name, frowning, “Is that me? Am I...? You know me.”

 

The realization stumbled from his lips and his fingers clenched that much tighter, “You know me, Cecil, you have to. What am I?”

 

Cecil felt the first burn of tears as the desperation of the man's tone tugged at his heart. Slowly, so as not to frighten him, he urged Carlos closer with his hands and a few soft words. He brought the scientist into his lap, letting him straddle his leg. The heat coming off him was welcoming but the ravenette was still whining low in his throat, clearly in distress as his memories slipped farther and farther away from him. Cecil cupped his smooth cheeks between his palms and cradled the weight of his head, hoping to give him a more solid comfort.

 

“Cecil,” Carlos dry sobbed, voice trembling on the delicate edge of shattering.

 

“Your name is Carlos, and you're a great scientist,” Cecil reminded him sweetly, thumbs framing lovely cheekbones, “You're in Night Vale and this is your home. Your other lab is down the street, and you've brought a team of scientists here. All the things you see in here are yours. Including me.”

 

Carlos collapsed against him, arms curling weakly around the radio host's ribs as his face burrowed into his pale neck. Cecil huffed in surprise, hands staying frozen in the air before they dropped onto the younger man's back. The slim body heaved but the cries were softer now, more in relief as he heard his own name again.

 

“I'm Carlos...Carlos...”

 

“Yes, of course you are,” Cecil dared to pet through his hair, though he couldn't quite give in to letting his lips brush the silky curls, “You are my best friend. You are the most beautiful and perfect being I've ever seen. You are curious and kind...and unattainable as the night is long.”

 

He hugged him tight, eyes falling to the flickering flame of the pillar candle.

 

“You must not forget these things,” Cecil demanded, “You can't forget who you are, darling. I couldn't bear it if you did.”  


The house hummed for a moment before the lights came back on, washing the shadows out of the room in just a few seconds. The scientist jerked in his arms.

 

“Carlos?”

 

Carlos sank into him, slowly becoming boneless until his sobs trailed off into weak snores. Gentle sounds, like heavy breaths through the nose. Cecil loosened his grip but he couldn't quite let go, allowing himself to enjoy the contact for the brief time he had it.

 

The scientist mouthed at the swell of his neck, a content hum running through him.

 

The moment turned into nothing short of sweet, _sweet_ torture.

 

*******

 

Carlos groaned and rolled over, dragging his pillow under his head at a more comfortable angle. He got comfortable again and was about to drift off once more but he smelled bacon. Fresh, hot, sizzling meat with something buttery underneath it. Eggs. He sat up and sniffed the air, brow furrowing up. Someone was in his home cooking breakfast.

 

He jumped out of bed and pulled on the nearest pair of pants, throwing a ratty t-shirt on to cover his bare chest before heading out of the bedroom. The icy metal grating of the staircase stung the soles of his feet as he descended, palm grazing the railing to keep his balance as he hurried to the kitchen. It was tucked away from the lab, the door nearly hidden in the corner of the room. The lights were on and the sound of frying meat grew in intensity as he approached.

 

He found himself suddenly terrified.

 

Carlos curled his fingers around the edge of the door frame, bracing himself as much as he could for whatever laid in wait for him. He took a big step through the threshold and found-

 

“Carlos!” Cecil greeted cheerfully, an apron tied over his rumpled clothes and a spatula swaying in his grip, “You're up. I almost thought of waking you but I knew you needed all the sleep you could get. I hope you're feeling better with the lights on?”

 

“The lights?” Carlos frowned, a little overwhelmed by the ease the other man felt, “Not that I'm upset to see you, but I'm unsure why you're here.”

 

Cecil hummed as he turned back to the skillet, folding the sausage omelet over on itself, “I didn't think you'd remember much. You were pretty far gone when I arrived.”

 

He leaned against the wall, trying to will the memories back, “What happened last night?”

 

“Blackouts are a dangerous thing in Night Vale,” he prodded the food absently, “I was honestly afraid I lost you for a moment. But, as always, you've surprised me and proven yourself stronger than anyone would have given credit. You're an absolute wonder, Carlos, have I told you?”

 

“Sometimes,” he managed a small smile, “Cecil?”

 

“Yes?”  


“What actually happened?”

 

Cecil took a long breath, fingers busy sprinkling salt over the food, “The shadows are well-behaved, darling, but _ravenous._ Sometimes their hunger becomes too much and one could hardly expect them to keep their places without a little sacrifice now and then. We all have our breaking points. Even here.”

 

Carlos recognized the wording as a quote but he couldn't exactly pin it down. It was something fantastical, something from childhood. Like the flowers in their window pot. Or his mother's cooking.

 

“Oh!” Carlos slapped a hand over his mouth, “I-I... _oh_ , Cecil, I remember my mother's laugh again. I'd forgotten. Last night...I forgot a lot. I couldn't even remember my own name! Everything was so unfamiliar and terrifying except for-”

 

Carlos cut himself off as he watched the blonde heap the contents of the skillet onto two plates.

 

“Except for you,” he finished in a whisper, “I never forgot your face.”  


Cecil felt a warm flutter take over his heart, “I know. I'm flattered.”

 

“And you came?” Carlos drew his arms over his chest, “How did you know? Did I call you?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

The scientist's nails scraped over something firm. He looked down and was actually surprised to find bandages wrapped across his forearms, the gauze thick enough to keep him from accidentally pulling it off in his sleep. He poked and prodded at it, revealing an ache beneath them. There was a soft clatter of plates before his friend came up to him, broad-palmed hands closing over the arm he was picking at.

 

“I wish you wouldn't,” Cecil captured him with a smile, “You accidentally hurt yourself last night and you should let it heal. I put some salve on the cuts and they should be fine. Give it two days before you change the bandages, though.”

  
“You fixed me up?” Carlos questioned slowly, “You found me, brought me back from wherever I was in my head, put me to bed, stayed the night, and...made me breakfast?”

 

“Don't sound so shocked?” Cecil bit the side of his lip, barely brushing his knuckle along the under side of the man's chin before he flushed all the way up to the tips of his ears, “You should eat before it gets cold. I'll pour you some juice.”

 

“You don't have to-”

 

“I insist,” Cecil lead him over to the table and put a hand on his shoulder to seat him, “You must still be exhausted.”

 

“I'm alright,” Carlos lied, cradling one of his hands to his chest as he watched the older man grab the drink. It was set down in front of him before Cecil sat across from him, the host picking up a fork before he started to dig in to his own food.

 

“Thank you,” he slowly curled his fingers around a utensil, “I don't know exactly what you've done for me, but I think I owe you more than I could ever understand. You are, perhaps, the greatest friend I have ever had. I've never had someone do something like this for me.”

 

“Anyone who's ever laid eyes upon you would do the same,” Cecil smiled shyly, “I imagine someone off the street would have no problem coming to your rescue. If they'd heard you call for help, I'm afraid I would've come in to find another comforting you.”

 

Carlos speared a large piece of egg but didn't look away from the blonde, “Would you have been jealous?”

 

“Undoubtedly,” Cecil replied immediately, that lavender tint returning to his cheeks, “B-But only to be concerned about your well-being. You weren't yourself and I wouldn't want a stranger seeing you like that. You were, well...”

 

“What?”

 

“Vulnerable,” the word seeped from his pink lips, tinted eyes cutting up to him, “I can't bear the thought of someone else touching you like I did.”

 

Carlos felt heat coil at the bottom of his stomach, spreading through his groin. His lashes fluttered as he recalled curling into the other's overly hot body, his lips still remembered stubble-rough skin. The same golden hair that graced Cecil's chin and neck. He'd been in his lap. Cecil had carried him like that to bed. He'd grabbed at him, begged him to stay, begged him to-

 

“I apologize,” Carlos ran his other hand over his eyes, trying to forget again, “I shouldn't have said some of those things.”

 

“You mean when I put you to bed?” Cecil's eyes got rather round, “All you did was ask me to join you. I tucked you in and-”

 

“ _Come 'ere, Cecil...”_

 

“ _Carlos, please.”_

 

“ _Love it when you say my name like that.”_

 

“ _Carlos!”_

 

“ _Just a little good night kiss. Something sweet to put me to sleep.”_

 

“I wanted a kiss, didn't I?” Carlos could feel his cheeks burning hot under his touch, “You were a perfect gentleman and a friend and I nearly ripped your shirt. How could I forget? Your button dug into my hand.”  


Carlos looked down at his palm and sure enough there was a small, round mark just below his middle finger. He'd grabbed Cecil's shirt and pulled him down, offering mouth for whatever the man had wanted it for. It was a little blurry after that but there had been a laugh before fingers had carded through his hair.

 

“I don't mind,” Cecil promised, “You really should eat. You need your strength.”

 

Carlos did his best to bury his embarrassment and shoved his mouth full of food.

 

* * *

 

 **Sorry for any spelling mistakes. I really hope you guys enjoyed this.**  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
